


Inner Demons

by Sand_wolf579



Series: Relativity Falls [2]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Relativity Falls, Bill Cipher is a Jerk, Family Bonding, Family Issues, Gen, Lack of Communication, Paranoid Dipper Pines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26152972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sand_wolf579/pseuds/Sand_wolf579
Summary: Stan and Ford noticed moments when their Grunkle Dipper would become more stressed and anxious than normal, but they didn't understand why.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines & Stan Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines
Series: Relativity Falls [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891705
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

Stan had never been very interested in Ford's little nerd game, Dungeons, Dungeons, & More Dungeons. The game took five hours just to set up, and the actual game itself could take weeks of unrealistically long sessions of sitting around, rolling some useless dice and acting like total dorks. Stan didn't really get how the game worked, and he always got annoyed to no end whenever Ford successfully coaxed him into playing with him.

But then, Stan had never really played the game tag-team style before.

"What? Another thirty six?!" Ford's cry of frustration and rage made Stan grin. He didn't think he had ever loved the sound of Ford failing at something so much. Maybe there was something to this nerd game after all.

"Sorry, Ford, Stan's charisma roll was so effective that your earth hydra has now shifted loyalties and joined him." Fiddleford said as he barely kept himself from chuckling at Ford's misfortune.

"Oh _come_ on!" Ford threw his arms out in frustration. He glared viciously at Fiddleford. "Did you _have_ to tell Stan that he could turn his enemies? It's the only thing he does!"

"It's a perfectly legal move." Fiddleford said for the twelfth time as he chuckled at Ford's frustration.

"Yeah, Ford, it's legal." Stan smirked at his brother before turning back to his gaming partner. "So, Fidds, what's our next move?"

Fiddleford opened his mouth to answer, but he froze when his stomach grumbled audibly. "Uh, maybe we should take a lunch break?" He suggested.

"I could eat." Stan stood up and stretched. Besides, maybe it'll give Ford some time to actually come up with a strategy."

"Yes, let's laugh at how humorous it is that I'm outnumbered here." Ford muttered under his breath as he also got to his feet.

"I don't know what you're complaining about." Stan teased. "You're the one who suggested I work with Fidds." It had been another one of Ford's attempts to get Stan and Fiddleford to actually get along with each other, and so far it had been the only attempt to work. It was a lot easier for Stan to consider that Fiddleford wasn't just out to replace him as Ford's best friend when they were working together to beat the nerd at his favorite game. With Stan's luck, Fiddleford's smarts, and both of their creativity combined, they were pretty unstoppable at the game, and it was hilarious just how furious it made Ford.

"Yes, I'm aware that it was my idea." Ford sighed. "Let's just go get some food already." Ford, for once, was the first to walk away from the game and head downstairs. He must have been more frustrated than Stan had first thought.

"This game is funner than it usually is." Stan said as he picked up the 38 sided die and tossed it into the air.

"You're just having fun beating your brother." Fiddleford pointed out.

"Yeah, that too." Stan laughed. "Seriously though, I got pretty sucked into this stupid game. I can see why Ford plays it for twenty hours at a time."

"Uh, you didn't do much better, Stan." Ford said from downstairs. "It's after 6:00."

"What? That's impossible." Stan hurried downstairs and one look at the clock confirmed that Ford hadn't been exaggerating. "How have we been playing that dumb game for five hours?"

"Did I just hear you right?" Grauntie Mabel looked in on them from the kitchen, a mischievous look in her eyes. Stan didn't trust that look, just like he didn't trust the look that she got when she found something sparkly or rainbow. She was a little scary when she got those looks. "Did you brother finally drag you into their nerd games? It's just as I feared. The nerdness is spreading."

Stan felt his face go red, and his ears soon turned hot too when he heard Fiddleford and Ford chuckling at his misfortune. He hated it when somebody teased him, especially when others laughed too. Sure, Stan teased Ford all the time, and he always laughed when others teased him in a friendly way...but this was different!

I hope you guys came down because you're hungry, because dinner's ready." Mabel said. She smiled at Fiddleford. "You can stay and eat with us, if you want."

Fiddleford smiled politely, though somewhat nervously. "I think I should call and ask if it's okay." Stan didn't like how hesitant Fiddleford was to do anything that could possibly insult or worry his guardians. When Stan had mentioned his displeasure to Ford though his brother had just waved it aside and said that Fiddleford just didn't want to do anything to upset the family that was watching him while he was in Gravity Falls.

During the last school year Fiddleford had blown up a part of his school. Most people thought that it was by accident, because it was the kind of thing that Fiddleford did quite often, but he had told them that he had done it on purpose, though he hadn't bothered to explain why. Whatever the reason behind his actions, Fiddleford's parents had thought that some fresh air would be good for him, so they had sent him to Gravity Falls to stay with a family friend for an undetermined amount of time.

While Fiddleford called his temporary guardian, Stan and Ford were dragged into setting the table by their great aunt. Neither of them really wanted to do it, but there was no arguing with Grauntie Mabel. By the time they had finished setting the table, which only took a few moments, considering there were only a couple of places that needed to be set, two of them were doing it, and they didn't need to do anything fancy, Mabel had pulled Fiddleford's phone right out of his hands as she came up with the idea of just letting Fidds stay the night, and she wanted to run the idea by his guardian.

In a matter of just five seconds (Stan made a mental note to figure out his great aunt's techniques, because she was one heck of a convincer) Mabel cheerfully said goodbye to whoever was on the other line and hung up the phone. The older woman then turned to the three boys.

"It's all set. You guys are having a slumber party." Mabel's grin was so broad that it looked like it would stretch right off her face. Stan didn't see what all the excitement was about.

"No, we're not." Stan grumbled as he crossed his arms stubbornly. "Only girls have slumber parties." Stan had watched enough movies to know that much. It just wasn't something that guys did.

"What's this about a slumber party?" Dipper poked his head into the kitchen, a wary expression on his face. "Mabel, I swear, if you set the party cannon off in the house again, I'll-"

"We're _not_ having a slumber party!" Stan yelled. He felt his face go even more red. Why were his great aunt and uncle talking about slumber parties like they were completely regular things for three teenage _boys_ to be doing? It wasn't!

"Don't get yer hair all up in a twist." Fiddleford advised. "It's just a sleepover." Oh...okay, Stan could handle a sleepover. Sure, it was basically an under glorified slumber party, but he thought that it was okay. After all, Stan and Ford were currently sleeping over at their great aunt and uncle's place, and Fiddleford was basically sleeping over at somebody else's house. If parents thought that it was normal to send their teenage boy kids on an extended sleepover, then it must be okay.

"Fine." Stan muttered reluctantly. "But we're _not_ calling it a slumber party." Stan glared at his great aunt, and she just smirked right back at him.

"Whatever you say, Kitten." Mabel ruffled Stan's hair.

"Hey." Stan whined in protest and ducked away from her affection. The boy pointed at the older woman. "I told you, only Jimmy can call me Kitten."

Jimmy Snakes was one of the Mystery Shack's part time workers. He helped Dipper with the magical and unnatural side of things. Stan didn't entirely understand why his Grunkle Dipper had hired Jimmy in the first place, considering the two adults had all but hated each other when they first met, but he wasn't going to complain. Because Jimmy was working at the shack, Stan got to see him quite a lot.

"I don't understand why you let Jimmy call you that ridiculous nickname." Ford said. He still sounded kinda sore about how Stan and Fidds were beating him at his own game.

Stan smirked wickedly at his brother. "Well, if _you_ want to tell Jimmy what you think of the nickname-" A look of brief fear and uncertainty flashed in Ford's eyes as he averted his gaze back to the table. Stan chuckled. "Yeah, that's what I thought." Ford was scared of Jimmy. He and Dipper actually used to think that Jimmy Snakes was a demon, which was just ridiculous. Stan was sure that his brother and great uncle were still uncertain about Jimmy, but they were both too smart to share their opinions with Stan. Especially not after the last time they had done so. He had only just started to forgive them for trying to make him hate Jimmy.

Ford, who seemed eager to get away from the topic of Jimmy, turned back towards Mabel. "What kind of things would we be doing at this slum-uh, I mean, sleepover?" Stan gave his brother an odd look.

"Come on, Sixer, we don't need rules or schedules for a sleepover," Stan was sure that that was what Ford had in mind when he had asked. Although, now that Stan thought about it he remembered that he'd never been to a sleepover before either, so for all he knew there really were rules for it. Stan looked to his Grauntie and Grunkle for reassurance. "...Right?"

Mabel opened her mouth to answer, but Dipper was quick to put a hand over her mouth to stop her. Dipper then looked at them and smiled. "There's no rules. _Right,_ Mabel?" Dipper glared at his sister. "Anything that you're thinking of just applies to slumber parties, and that's not what the boys are having. They're having a sleepover, which is a _completely_ different thing. Right, Stan?" Dipper winked at Stan, who grinned broadly back.

"Yeah," Stan agreed eagerly. He wouldn't know how to deal with them having a slumber party. Sleepovers were a lot easier. No matter what Ford's eye roll or Fidds' stifled chuckles seemed to suggest, they weren't the same thing.

"So, uh," Fiddleford coughed and tried to keep his face straight. "Were we going to eat dinner?"

"No, we can't yet!" Mabel said loudly, making them all flinch. "Slumber parties can't just have boring old waffles, they need party waffles, with whipped cream, and sugar, and sprinkles."

"Does that still apply if it's just a sleepover and not a slumber party?" Stan grumbled, because he still refused to call this thing a slumber party. It just wasn't what they were doing. Stan's comment was ignored.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to give the kids a sugar rush when we're expecting them to sleep tonight?" Dipper gave his sister an unimpressed look.

"Doesn't matter, it's what we're doing." Mabel grabbed her brother's arm. "We need to go on an emergency grocery store trip." She didn't even give Dipper the chance to argue before she was dragging him towards the door.

"Wh-Mabel! We can't just leave the kids," Dipper pulled back against his sister. "And I doubt they want to come with us."

"Not at all," Stan said. Trips to the store with Mabel were usually a lot of fun, and when he went with Dipper the man would always put him in charge of keeping track on how much money they would be spending. Stan suspected that it was because Dipper had heard that his math grades were really bad, and this was his way of helping him study or something. Stan didn't mind it though, because no matter what people told him, he didn't connect money stuff with math. He was really bad at math, but he was a master at money.

If Stan was just going to the store with one of his temporary guardians, he usually enjoyed himself. However, if he went with both of them, he usually came home feeling sick to his stomach. Whenever they all went to the store, or anywhere public, it seemed like if Stan so much as opened his mouth while they were there, Dipper would give him a warning look, like he was doing something wrong. The first time it had happened Stan had been so shocked and unnerved, thinking that his great-uncle was mad at him for something, that he had just lowered his head and kept completely quiet for the rest of the day. Dipper had later explained to him that he was used to Mabel making a scene at the grocery store, and he wouldn't be able to keep an eye on more than one troublemaker.

Stan had been relieved that Dipper hadn't really been mad at him, but he didn't want to take his chances. He did what he could to avoid going out in public with both Dipper and Mabel, and that included going to the grocery store.

"Well, we can't just not have whipped cream for the waffles," Mabel insisted, and the way that she said it made it sound like it was a matter of life and death. "Do you think that Maria is still around?"

Dipper sighed and put a hand to his head. "We can't ask our cleaning lady to babysit the kids."

Stan seethed at the term 'babysit'. They may be kids, but they definitely weren't _babies._ They were old enough to not need a babysitter, but he knew that nothing he said would change Dipper or Mabel's minds.

"Why not?" Mabel asked. "She'd love the chance to make a little extra money. And she loves the kids."

"No, she _tolerates_ the kids." Dipper corrected his sister, but Mabel wasn't listening to him. She had already run off to find the cleaning lady who tidied up the shack every Monday and Wednesday. Stan didn't know Maria Ramirez all that well, as she only ever came over twice a week, but considering she didn't yell at him, or even seem all that disappointed, when he tracked dirt into the shack or broke something, he thought she was pretty okay.

Dipper, realizing that there was no arguing with Mabel at this point, sighed and turned towards the kids. "Why don't you guys go upstairs and get things set up?"

Stan didn't really know just what needed to be 'set up'. Weren't they just going to put some pillows and blankets on the floor, and just call that good? Then again, the attic's floor was currently covered with Dungeons, Dungeons, & More Dungeons papers. That stuff would have to move if one of them was going to sleep on the floor.

Ford, who was always eager to impress their grunkle Dipper, hurried to lead the way upstairs. Stan was not all that fond of cleaning, but he wasn't about to just not do as he was told. He wasn't usually all that obedient, as his parents and teachers would be quick to tell anybody who asked, but he was hesitant to push Grunkle Dipper's buttons. Dipper seemed a little intense sometimes, and Stan didn't know him well enough to know what his limits were. Stan wasn't afraid of getting into a little bit of trouble, but he really didn't want to give his relatives any reason to hate him.

Stan trudged up the stairs, taking his sweet old time. By the time he got to the attic Ford had already neatly piled together the chart papers and put them aside. With the remaining game bits, Stan knew that Ford would take care of them, so he just let him deal with it. Stan went to his bed, grabbed the thick blanket that Graunty Mabel insisted be on the bed, even though it was the middle of Summer, and threw it on the ground. Whoever was going to sleep on the floor could use it to make the ground a little softer.

They hadn't talked about who would be on the beds and who would be on the floors. Stan knew who he thought should be on the floor, because it just made sense to him that the people whose room it was should have the beds. Ford also seemed to have made a decision already, but it wasn't the same as Stan's was.

"Feel free to take a bed, Fiddleford," Ford said. "Me or Stan can take the floor."

Stan frowned at his brother and crossed his arms. "Why do you get to make that decision?" If this was something that involved all of them, shouldn't they all get a say?

Ford gave his brother an unimpressed look. He'd been doing that a lot more lately, probably picking it up from Dipper and Mabel, who looked at each other that way all the time. "We're not making out guest sleep on the ground, Stanley,"

"Actually, I don't mind-" Fiddleford began, but Stan and Ford were too focused on each other to pay attention to what he had to say.

"But it's okay to force your own twin to sleep on the floor?" Stan raised his voice slightly. He didn't even know why he was getting so mad.

Ford's cheeks got a red tint to them and his eyes hardened. "I never said it had to be you."

"Yeah, but you didn't volunteer your bed either," Stan pointed out. "You said that _one_ of us would sleep on the floor, throwing me in there without even asking me about it first."

"Oh, don't act like it's such a betrayal," Ford scoffed. "You were going to make Fiddleford sleep on the floor, and you know it."

That was completely true, but Stan still didn't like that Ford was just assuming the worst from him. He was about to tell Ford just what he thought about his high and mighty attitude when Fiddleford stepped between them, pushing them away from each other.

"Alrigh', that's enough," Fiddleford said sternly, his Southern accent coming through even more clearly than it usually did, which was saying something. "There ain't no need to get nasty with each other. Why don't we work this out in a civilized manner?"

Stan and Ford glared at each other, and without saying a word about it they both made one hand into a fist and rested it on the palm of their other hand. Basically the universal sign for Rock-Paper-Scissors. Fiddleford grinned, took a step back so that they were no longer in a line, but a triangle, and joined in the game. It took a couple of rounds, because they kept on arguing about how Ford was trying to change the rules to make it more complicated, or Stan was cheating because he delayed a little bit. Eventually though they were able to figure it out, and there was a very clear loser.

Stan grumbled as he grabbed one of Ford's pillows and tossed it on top of the thick blanket. _This_ was why he didn't like to play games fair and square, because he always lost.

Ford smiled at Stan, amusement in his eyes. "You know, if you _really_ don't want to be on the floor-" Ford seemed like he was enjoying Stan's frustrations, but his unspoken offer was sincere. If Stan was really bothered by this, then Ford would be willing to switch places with him.

"No, it's fine," Stan muttered. Ford frequently fell asleep at his desk, and he always woke up sore and cranky. Stan could sleep wherever he wanted and feel just fine in the morning, so it only made sense that he took the floor instead of Ford.

As Stan got to work trying to make a blanket nest to sleep in (if he was going to be sleeping in a non-traditional way, then he might as well go all out), Dipper opened the door, poking his head in.

"Mabel's not going to be taking 'no' for an answer this time, so we'll be going to the store for a bit. If you guys need anything, Maria is just downstairs cleaning the family room." Dipper said. "Try not to bother her. She's already staying overtime, there's no need to make her job any harder than it already is." Stan was slightly annoyed at the way that Dipper looked at him when he said this, but he couldn't be too upset, because he knew that it was something that he would totally do.

"Dipper!" Grauntie Mabel's voice called out from downstairs. "We've gotta go!"

Dipper groaned, not looking all that happy about what he was being dragged into. "We'll be back soon. Try not to burn the house down while we're gone." Dipper then turned and ran back downstairs, yelling for his sister to have a little more patience.

The second they heard the front door shut, Stan turned towards Ford with a mischievous and excited grin. "Hey, we have the whole shack to ourselves."

Ford grimaced, but a slow smile crept onto his face. "You're not seriously thinking…"

"Oh, you bet I am," Stan stood up and pumped his fist into the air triumphantly. "Mystery Shack Scavenger Hunt!"

"You know Great Uncle Dipper doesn't like us playing that game," Ford said, but he was still smiling. Stan could tell that it would take very little convincing to convince Ford to join the game.

"What Grunkle Dipper doesn't know won't hurt us." Stan said. If he only ever did what Grunkle Dipper wanted, he would never be able to do anything fun around here. He preferred Grauntie Mabel's way of doing what he wanted, and worrying about the consequences when they hit.

"What's Mystery Shack Scavenger Hunt?" Fiddleford asked. Like Stan, Fiddleford didn't seem at all worried that playing the game may involve breaking some house rules.

"We all go down to the Shack and make a list of attractions for the others to find," Stan said. "I describe the attraction itself while this nerd writes down made up words."

"They're not made up," Ford laughed as he shoved Stan's arm. They'd had this argument too many times for him to be truly insulted about it anymore. "What Stan means is that I write down the attraction's real name or describe what it actually does, and Stan writes down what he thinks the attraction is."

It was less a game about finding everything on the list, and more about figuring out what each other was saying. Neither of them were very good at the game. No matter how many times they played it, Stan could never remember which attraction was a gremloblin eye, and Ford never knew which attraction Stan meant when he wrote down 'cursed demon necklace', because while there were a dozen cursed necklaces, and a number of ones that had symbols that represented demons, there apparently wasn't any amulet that was both.

"That sounds fun," Fiddleford said. "I'm in."

"I guess I'm outnumbered here," Ford said. He grabbed three notebooks and handed one each to Fiddleford and Stan. "Alright, rules. We can only use the public attractions. We have five minutes to write down twelve attractions, six from Mabel's half, six from Dipper's half."

"No making things up," Stan added. "What you list has to be what you'd actually call the attraction."

"Since there's three of us playing, we should each write down our list twice." Ford said. "Both lists should be identical." The three of them nodded in agreement. "Ready? Go!" The three of them pushed each other aside in their rush to get down the stairs. Fiddleford and Ford ran right into the Mystery Shack half while Stan went into the art museum.

Stan spent a lot of time in the art museum, but he didn't completely understand it. The attractions were always changing, and if Stan had any say on what to call them every single attraction would be called Yarn Blob. However, he'd heard Grauntie Mabel talk enough about what each of these attractions represented that he was able to come up with things to write. Hopefully Ford and Fiddleford didn't know that Inner Demons was talking about the rug with the weird triangle in the middle of it.

Stan quickly wrote down his descriptions before he moved on to the Mystery Shack. This was the reason why Dipper didn't like it when they played this game. Because of the nature of the game, Stan had to look at the attractions by himself, and Grunkle Dipper was a little paranoid about Stan being alone with his precious attractions. He seemed to think that Stanley couldn't go unsupervised for more than five minutes without punching something or knocking it over. Grunkle Dipper also thought that Stan's made-up names were demeaning.

Stan was usually able to finish his list with time to spare, but needing to write down twice as much was really time consuming. Stan only had ten items on each list when he heard Fiddleford call out that five minutes was up. Stan really quickly wrote down 'goat child flute' and 'murder hand' on one of the lists. It was technically going over time, but if Stan could squeeze in a couple more answers before turning in a test at school, he could stretch the time limit for their game.

Stan only dared to take the time to write things down on one of the lists before going to the living room to join the others, who were already waiting for them. Ford was eyeing him suspiciously, like he already knew that he had already cheated, which was an unfair assumption. A true one, yes, but still unfair.

"Here," Stan passed his notebook to Fiddleford, who was closer to him.

"What took you so long?" Ford asked. Stan couldn't have been more than a minute.

"I was just finishing writing stuff down," Stan said. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Fiddleford quickly scribbling something onto Stan's notebook. In just a matter of seconds Fiddleford was finished. He ripped one of the pages out, the one with the list that Stan had finished, and handed it to Ford.

"Let's not start fighting before we even start the game," Fiddleford said. He subtly showed Stan that he had added the last two items onto the list for him, which Stan appreciated. He liked to think that Ford might have given him time to complete the two lists, but he was half worried that Ford would insist that the last two items not count, since he hadn't written them down within the time limit.

Ford relented and gave Stan and Fiddleford a copy of his list while Fiddleford did the same. "Alright, but definitely no going over the actual searching, because that really will be cheating." Stan had no problem with that. He could search a lot quicker than he could write stuff down.

"Fifteen minutes enough time?" Stan asked. Their scavenger hunts were usually ten minutes, but with another player and more things to find, more time would be needed. Ford and Fiddleford agreed. Once again, the three of them were running off, struggling to find a balance between going quickly and being careful to not break anything and get in trouble.

Stan had always thought that playing this game using just Ford's list was challenging enough, but Fiddleford's list made Ford's look easy. Fiddleford had listed things like 'the White Screamer's Shadow' and 'Skinned Tom's knife'. Stan wasn't an expert in supernatural junk like his brother and uncle were, but he'd never even heard of a lot of the things on Fiddleford's list.

Whenever they played this game, it was complete luck whenever Stan got anything right from Ford's list. He didn't think that even luck would help him with Fiddleford's list. Stan decided to start with Mabel's attractions, since he was more familiar with those, and sometimes Ford's closest guess as to what the art exhibits were called were things like 'purple sweater...maybe?', and those were a lot easier to figure out than 'runes from the ruins of Raladore'.

While fifteen minutes sounded like a lot of time, Stan had twenty four exhibits to find. That meant that he had to find, like, two items every minute or something like that. Ford would probably know exactly how much time he would have for each exhibit, but Stan was fine with his basic guess. It was good enough for him.

Stan spent only five minutes in Mabel's area. It wasn't nearly enough time to get all twelve of Ford and Fiddleford's Mabel exhibits, but he always struggled most with Dipper's area, so he wanted to save as much time for that as he could.

All too soon, the fifteen minutes were up. Stan didn't even have guesses for everything on the lists, and he was only a little bit confident about three or four things, but he took comfort in the fact that Ford and Fiddleford couldn't have done much better than him. Stan met up with the others in the front hall.

Stan was disappointed when he saw Ford already waiting for him. He would have loved to be the first one there so he could rub it in Ford's face that he was the late one. At least Fiddleford wasn't there yet. Stan didn't want to deal with Ford's accusations of him cheating again.

Once all three of them were there they went to the entrance to Dipper's Mystery Shack attractions. Stan gave Ford and Fiddleford back their lists, and Ford handed his back to him. The way that this next bit worked was they would take turns reading the items on their own lists while the other two would point to their best guess as to what the thing on the list went.

Stan started. He was pleased to see that Fiddleford only guessed two things right, and Ford, who knew him better, got four. Stan's confidence went down when he was only able to guess one of Ford's right, and he was wrong about all of Fiddleford's. He wasn't normally this bad at the game. He got really close with most of his guesses, they were all the right general kind of artifact, but close enough wasn't good enough for Mystery Shack Scavenger Hunt.

By the time they moved on to Mabel's area, Stan was losing with just one point. Fiddleford was in second with four points, and Ford was in the lead with five. The only thing that kept Ford from boasting and Stan from getting moody because he was losing was that the game was only halfway done. They were about to go to Mabel's half of the shack, and it was always this half of the game where Stan thrived.

Stan was able to guess three of Ford's and two of Fiddleford's exhibits right. Fiddleford was right about two of Ford's and Stan's answers. Ford, who really didn't understand abstract art, got one of Fiddleford's and none of Stan's. The winner of the game was clearly Fiddleford, with eight total points. Stan and Ford were tied with six points each, and neither of them were satisfied with that. What was the point of having a competition between twins if it didn't settle anything?

"The carpet shouldn't count." Ford crossed his arms as he glared at Stan. "It's not an exhibit, it's a floor piece."

"Grauntie Mabel says everything around here is art," Stan argued. "She says even the water stain on the wall is art."

"Well, it shouldn't be," Ford said.

"Who died and put you in charge of what counts as art?" Stan asked.

Fiddleford looked like he couldn't decide whether to be amused or concerned about their arguing. "Why don't you just ask Mabel? It's her museum, she should know what counts as an exhibit." Stan and Ford looked at each other. They didn't normally like involving their aunt or uncle into their competitions. Dipper thought they were pointless and just encouraged fighting. Mabel egged on their competitive natures, but if she was ever asked to settle something, she would just say that they were both winners in her eyes.

Fiddleford did have a point though, so when Stan and Ford heard the car pulling up in front of the house, they both dashed outside. Ford grabbed Stan's arm and pulled him back when it looked like he was pulling ahead. In return, Stan tackled his brother. When the door opened and Dipper and Mabel came inside, Stan and Ford were wrestling on the ground.

"Whoa, whoa, hey!" Dipper picked Stan up and pulled him off of Ford. "What's going on?"

"Grauntie Mabel," Ford looked at her with wide, hopeful eyes. He didn't want to be wrong any more than Stan did. "Does the carpet in your museum count as an exhibit?"

Dipper frowned. "Carpet? What carpet?" For some reason, Mabel shifted her gaze away from her brother like she was ashamed.

"You know, the one with the weird demon triangle on it." Stan said. Dipper stiffened so much that his hold on Stan got nearly bruising in pressure. Stan froze, barely daring to breath. What did he do wrong this time?

"Weird triangle demon?" Dipper asked in a quiet voice that couldn't decide if it was angry or terrified. Stan could feel shaking, but he didn't know if it was him or Dipper doing the shaking. "You have a carpet of-"

"Calm down, dipping dot," Mabel came up to Dipper and put a hand on his shoulder. She put a hand on Stan's arm and made to pull him gently away, but Dipper just tightened his grip on Stan and pulled him back. Stan yelped in surprise, slight alarm, and just a little bit of pain. Dipper flinched and let go of Stan, who quickly stepped out of arm's reach.

"I...sorry," Dipper said. He looked at Stan, but didn't quite meet his eyes. Dipper was never as comfortable around people as Mabel was, but he usually had the confidence to make eye-contact. Stan couldn't help but notice that at some of Dipper's more intense, somewhat scary moments, he really didn't like looking at eyes. Even a drawing of an eye could make Dipper panic. Stan hated when this happened, especially when he felt like it was his fault and he didn't even know what he did.

"I promise, Dipper, I meant to get rid of the carpet, but it's stuck," Mabel said apologetically. Dipper blinked.

"Stuck? But I don't remember…" Dipper groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll see what I can do."

"Dipper, no," Mabel said desperately. "You don't have to. I'll do it."

"I can handle it," Dipper said. "I just want to make sure it gets done." Dipper gave Stan another apologetic look. "Just...watch the kids, okay? Make those slumber party, I mean, sleepover waffles."

"Are you sure?" Mabel frowned.

"I'm sure," Dipper gave her a reassuring smile that was small but sincere. "Hey, when I'm done we can have a bonfire. Been awhile since we had one of those." Stan and Ford exchanged glances. Dipper and Mabel only had a fire when one of them desperately wanted to get rid of something, whether it be a cursed object that was too dangerous or an old painting of a unicorn.

"If you're sure," Mabel didn't look completely convinced, but she didn't argue more with her brother. Mabel put her hands on Stan and Ford's shoulders and led them into the kitchen. Fiddleford, who had followed them to find Mabel, quietly followed them. "So, who's ready for waffles?"

Stan for one wasn't feeling so hungry anymore, but if Mabel and Dipper were so insistent on pretending that everything was normal, who was he to stop them? Stan knew a thing or two about wanting to ignore things that were hard to think about.

"Me!" Stan said loudly and with probably just a touch too much forced enthusiasm. Waffles were really sugary, and what better way to avoid hard issues than by eating lots of junk? He was more genuinely excited when Mabel handed him a knife and asked him to cut the strawberries. At home, Mom never let him cut things. She thought that he was just a little bit too eager, and he may have accidentally cut his fingers a few dozen times.

Mabel was more than happy to give him an outlet for what Dipper called his 'violent tendencies'. She also let Ford make some whipped cream, since she got too enthusiastic about it and usually over whipped it until it resembled really sugary butter more than whipped cream. Fiddleford would have been happy to help too, but Mabel wouldn't let anybody touch the chocolate or caramel sauces or the waffle batter itself, because she had some secret ingredients that she wouldn't let anybody else know about. Mabel did, however, allow Fiddleford to run the waffle iron itself.

The waffles and toppings were just getting finished when Dipper came into the kitchen, an iron bar in his hand and a manic look in his eyes. Mabel passed him a plate that was more whipped cream and sprinkles than waffles.

"How'd it go, bro-bro?" Mabel asked.

"The good news is we don't have to worry about the rug anymore, and we can have S'mores after dinner." Dipper said. He sounded stressed and a little nervous, but not nearly as panicked as before. "The bad news is that there's now a rug-sized hole on the floor because I had to pull the wood out."

"I'm sure Boyish Dan will be glad to get some part-time work." Mabel said. "I'll call him tomorrow."

"So, uh, what's the big deal with the evil carpet?" Stan asked. He knew he probably shouldn't be asking, but he wasn't very good at keeping his questions to himself. If there was something on his mind, he spoke up.

"It's nothing," Dipper said too quickly. He started to eat his waffles to have a reason to not answer him.

Stan crossed his arms. "You wouldn't freak out if it was nothing." Dipper didn't even meet his gaze. "You know, I could always just get Poindexter to do some nerd research into this and-"

"Don't you dare!" Dipper shouted and slammed his fist on the table, making it shake. Stan blinked and leaned back away from his great uncle. Even Ford looked startled. "Stuff like this is too dangerous! If you look into this I'll...I'll…" Dipper grimaced and sighed. He rested his face in his hands. "Please, guys, just...don't go looking into this stuff. I can't tell you why, just, please, leave it alone."

Ford slid his hands behind his back and looked at the floor. "...We won't." Stan knew that Ford had to be even more curious than he was, but he looked up to Dipper too much to disobey him.

"Yeah, whatever," Stan muttered. He didn't have as much of an issue with doing things he was specifically told not to do, but Dipper had reacted so badly just by Stan implying a small mystery hunt, which he hadn't really been serious about. Dipper may be a nerd like Ford, but he wasn't afraid of going on monster hunts. Dipper was stronger than he looked, and Stan didn't want to get on his bad side.

Fiddleford watched the four of them somewhat nervously. He looked like he was waiting for something more to happen, and Stan realized that he was waiting for the same thing. That was the end of the conversation though. They finished eating their waffles, with Mabel occasionally throwing sprinkle's into Dipper's hair.

When they had all eaten at least two waffles, with both Stan and Fiddleford wanting to stop at just one, but Mabel insisting that they have more, Dipper brought them outside where a large but contained fire was burning. Other than the odd smell in the air, there was no sign of the rug. Even though Dipper had acted so weird before, he started roasting marshmallows for the promised S'mores like nothing had happened. Stan didn't know whether to be relieved or wary about this.

Mabel and Stan were too impatient to spend several minutes roasting marshmallows, they just lit them on fire. Ford and Dipper would both rather put their marshmallows at just the right angle and distance from the fire to bring them to golden brown perfection. Of all of them, Fiddleford was probably the smartest one. He didn't bother with roasting his marshmallows, he just ate them as they were.

As they all ate, Dipper told stories about when he had first come to Gravity Falls decades ago. Mabel had been staying with him for a long time, but when Dipper had first come here, Mabel had still been in art school in California. Dipper had been on his own for several years. Dipper was a little vague about what the year or so before Mabel showed up, or why she came at all, but whenever either Stan or Ford was about to ask about one of the holes in Dipper's story, Mabel jumped in and started talking about her adventures at school. It was a decent distraction, but it just made Stan feel more curious. Adults didn't distract kids for no reason.

Encouraged by Dipper's story, Ford started talking about his and Stan's small attempt to find the Jersey Devil. It had been Stan's idea, because he needed some break from home, and he'd thought that if he and Ford could find a supernatural freaky creature, Ford might feel better about his hands. They'd never managed to find the Jersey Devil, but Ford was convinced it was out there. They just hadn't been able to get out and look for it very much. Maybe when the summer was over they'd give it another try.

Dipper gave them a few vague monster hunting tips, but he also told them that each creature was different, so he would have to learn more about the Jersey Devil to really help them.

Multiple times as they talked, Stan thought that the conversation had died out and they would go back inside, but Dipper would take one look at the still burning fire and frantically come up with something new to talk about. Mabel was more than happy to pick up on any topic Dipper picked. It wasn't until the fire had completely burned itself out and there wasn't a single amber remaining did Dipper say that it was starting to get a little late, and he had work to get back to.

Ford looked like he wanted to help Dipper with his help, but their great uncle hurried inside before he could even ask.

"Did you kids make forts for your slumber party?" Mabel asked.

"Sleepover," Stan said automatically. "And no...but I made a blanket nest to sleep in."

Mabel laughed and rustled Stan's hair. "A kid after my own heart." She looked at the three of them. "I know it's still a little early, but maybe you guys could go up to the attic and get ready for bed."

"What?" Stan and Ford looked at their aunt in shock. She wasn't as much of a night owl as Dipper was, but she was far from the model of someone who got a good night's sleep. She and Dipper always let Stan and Ford choose for themselves when they went to bed and woke up, only intervening when Ford was still awake at three in the morning, or Stan slept in until noon. It was weird to hear her suggest that they go to bed, especially so early.

"Well, if a sleepover is anything like a slumber party, you guys will just stay awake for another few hours talking anyways." Mabel said.

"You and Great Uncle Dipper have been acting weird all night." Ford crossed his arms.

"Yeah," Stan put his hands on his hips. "Is this still about the weird rug?"

Mabel's smile became somewhat strained and forced. "You kids are way too smart for your own good." She put a hand on each of their heads. "Maybe we'll tell you when you're older." That wasn't reassuring. Mabel wasn't somebody who dealt with maybes, that was more Dipper's style. Stan wished that Mabel would just say what she meant. ' _We're not going to tell you kids anything, but I know you won't accept this, so I'll pretend there's hope_ '.

Stan wondered if all adults were this frustrating and confusing, or if it was just their aunt and uncle.

Ford frowned and fiddled with his fingers and Stan scowled. Neither of them were eager to let the matter drop, but Fiddleford grabbed their arms. "Actually, fellas, I'm getting a little tired. Maybe we should go to bed." He didn't give them the chance to answer, he just started pulling them into the house. Stan tried to pull away from Fiddleford, but the hick was a lot stronger than he looked. Fiddleford was able to force Stan and Ford back into the house and upstairs with very little trouble.

The moment they were in the attic Stan yanked his arm away from Fiddleford and hit his punching bag. Ford sat down at the window and started to frantically write something down in one of those journals of his.

"Gah!" Stan hit his punching bag with so much force that it almost came back and hit him in the face. "I don't get what their problem is!"

"They _were_ acting really weird." Ford muttered. "I've seen that triangle symbol around all over Gravity Falls. It has to mean something. Maybe if we can find the common denominator."

"Maybe we should just leave well enough alone," Fiddleford said. Stan found himself reluctantly agreeing with him.

"Yeah, I mean, Grunkle Dipper looked kinda mad when I suggested it earlier." Stan said quietly. Ford lowered his notebook and looked at Stan strangely.

"Since when do you care about making someone angry?" Ford asked.

"I don't," Stan scowled and glared at his punching bag. "I just...forget about it." Ford loved listening to authority. As smart and independent as Ford was, he liked following someone else's example and being told what to do. Why did Ford have to find it so odd whenever Stan decided to do the same? It wasn't like Stan defied authority just for the sake of it...most of the time.

Stan went to his sleeping pile and buried himself under the blankets. He wasn't trying to hide from the world or anything. He just knew that Ford was in an investigating mood, and Stan didn't want to be interrogated tonight. He didn't really want to sleep, but it was better than getting into a fight with Ford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is twice as long as most of my other chapters are. I don't know what it is about this series that has me writing longer chapters. It just feels more natural to squeeze so much into each chapter.
> 
> Also, this chapter had so much more paranoid Dipper than I'd intended. He's just so much fun to write.


	2. Chapter 2

Stan shouted as he jolted awake and sat up. His breath was quick as he looked around in a panic. The attic looked dark and a little creepy, but that was just because it was the middle of the night and the attic had always been a little creepy. Usually Stan would get a slight sense that someone was watching him in the attic, but it was easy enough to ignore. Tonight, it was terrifying. He thought he could almost feel someone, or something, breathing down his neck, but when he turned around, there was nothing there.

He felt like he'd had a nightmare, but he couldn't remember anything. He felt so tired, like he hadn't even been asleep for long enough to have a nightmare in the first place. His shoulder had started burning, which was what had woken him up. His shoulder still hurt, and his head was pounding now too. It felt like somebody was knocking on his brain like it was a door.

Stan groaned and pulled his blanket up over his head. He probably just needed to get some real sleep. He wouldn't be able to feel his head pounding if he wasn't conscious. He still felt incredibly uneasy, but he couldn't just stay up all night just because he was scared of a monster in the closet. He wasn't five years old anymore.

Stan was tense for several minutes, but his heavy eyes soon led him to begin to doze off. His head still hurt, but not as much as before. It was almost bearable now. Stan was almost asleep when his shoulder flared up so suddenly and painfully that Stan was snapped awake.

"Agh!" Stan sat up and curled forward slightly. He brought a hand up to his shoulder and whimpered when he felt the heat coming from it. If he didn't know any better, he would think that it was the fake tattoo that Jimmy had drawn on his back that was acting up.

Stan froze when he heard muttering from his bed. He may not be having an easy time sleeping tonight, but he didn't want to accidentally wake up Ford or Fiddleford. After a long moment he chanced looking towards his bed. It sure looked like Fiddleford was asleep, but there was no denying the muttering he was making. Stan wondered if Fiddleford was talking in his sleep.

With the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, Stan approached his bed. He was a little curious about what Fiddleford was dreaming about. After listening to him for a moment, Stan felt a shiver go down his spine. He had thought that the reason why he hadn't understood Fiddleford was because his friend was mumbling, but now that he was closer he could tell that wasn't the case. Fidds' voice was quiet, but clear. Stan just couldn't understand what he was saying because there was no way that was English. It almost sounded like Fiddleford was speaking backwards, but that couldn't be possible...right?

Stan slowly backed away from Fiddleford. His headache was back with a vengeance, the attic looked even creepier than before, and his friend's muttering was not making things any better. Stan glanced over his shoulder towards Ford. His brother probably knew what was going on with Fiddleford, or he'd be able to either assure him that there was nothing wrong, or he'd be able to find exactly what the problem was. Ford would be able to make things better.

"H-hey, Ford," Stan said quietly. His brother twisted in his sleep and whined slightly, but he didn't wake up. "Ford?" Stan approached his brother's bed and shook his shoulders. He didn't get any response. Ford was usually such a light sleeper. If Stan needed any proof that something seriously wrong was going on, this would be it. "Ford!"

Stan felt his breath quicken as he looked around anxiously for anything that might help. His eyes zeroed in on the window. Some moonlight was shining through, which made it so the room wasn't completely dark, but Stan thought this might somehow be worse. He knew the light was from the moon, but it didn't feel natural. The circle in the middle of the window almost looked like an eye in this lighting, and it wasn't helping his feeling of being watched

An eye...in the middle of a creepy looking triangle. Ford not waking up, and Fiddleford muttering in his sleep like he was being possessed. This would be enough to freak Stan out under normal circumstances, but he couldn't forget about how Dipper had freaked out that night. The demon triangle carpet thing had really bothered him. Stan had never seen him so unnerved before, and that was saying something. Even Jimmy, who was the coolest guy that Stan knew, hated this room, especially the window.

If something was bad enough to scare both Dipper and Jimmy so badly, it wasn't something that he wanted to mess around with. At least, not on his own.

"U-uncle Dipper?" Stan slowly stepped away from Ford's bed. He flinched when he stepped into the light of the window. It felt like he'd been hit in the head, and his shoulder hurt equally as much. It was like the two were fighting over what caused him the most pain. Stan scurried out of the light and caught himself at the door. He reached for the doorknob, but then stopped himself.

He wanted to get his aunt or uncle, but it was really late. At home, they weren't allowed to wake up their parents in the middle of the night unless it was an emergency, and being afraid of a window definitely didn't count as an emergency.

Stan glanced behind him, hoping that it wasn't nearly as creepy as his mind was telling him, but he didn't feel any better. In fact, it almost looked like the window was staring straight at him, and it wasn't a friendly gaze. There was something seriously wrong with that window. Maybe...maybe it was the same thing that was wrong with the carpet, in which case, Dipper might just consider it an emergency, which meant that Stan wouldn't get in trouble.

He ran downstairs, nearly tripping over his feet and falling down the last few steps in his hurry. Stan quickly gathered himself and rushed to the entrance to the basement. He paused when he saw the red light shining over the entrance. When the light was red, nobody was allowed in the basement without Dipper's specific permission, not even Mabel. When the light wasn't on, it meant that Dipper wasn't in the basement. Stan had heard that Dipper had a green light as well that meant that it was safe for anybody to come down, but he'd never seen the light anything other than red since he got here.

Stan didn't even think of running down into the basement. Instead he reached up and pushed the small button that acted a bit like a doorbell, alerting Dipper that somebody needed something of him up here. Dipper had told him over and over again to not just push the button, just to see how Dipper would react, but he really did need something from him this time.

Stan waited for a few moments before he pushed the button again, and then a third and fourth time, just for good measure. Finally, he heard the stomping of someone coming up the stairs. Stan stepped back to allow room for Dipper to open the door.

"I heard you the first time, Mabel, you don't have to keep...Stan?" Dipper had looked incredibly irritated when he'd first opened the door, but it changed to a look of confusion and concern when he saw an anxious Stan standing there. "What are you doing up at this hour?" Dipper knelt to bring himself to Stan's level. "What's wrong?"

"I-I don't know." Stan now felt a little silly for being so freaked out about the fact that Ford was sleeping and there was some light in the attic, but he'd come this far. If he told his great uncle that there wasn't actually a problem, Dipper might get annoyed with him. "Something weird is going on."

"Weird? What kind of weird?" Dipper asked. His eyes shone with excited curiosity, but there was still worry in his gaze.

"Ford won't wake up." Stan rubbed his shoulder. "Fidds is muttering nonsense, and I feel like the window is watching me." Dipper paled.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Dipper asked tensely.

"Uh, I don't think so," Stan frowned. "My shoulder and head started hurting and it woke me up." Dipper didn't look completely convinced. The man frowned and quickly stood up. Stan's eyes widened and he automatically took a step back from Dipper, but his grunkle grabbed him by the arm. Stan yelped when Dipper lifted him up and held him in a gentle but firm grip.

"It's okay," Dipper said quietly, mostly to himself. "Everything's going to be just fine," He turned and made his way back down into the basement. Stan nearly held his breath, barely daring to breath as Dipper went down the stairs. Stan had never been in the basement before. He didn't know why Dipper was bringing him down now.

Dipper continued going down before he came to a door. The door was locked with a code. Dipper quickly put in the keycode and opened the door. The moment they were inside the room, Stan's headache went away, and the burning in his shoulder was quick to follow. Stan sighed in relief.

Dipper set Stan down on a chair. "Don't move. I'll be right back." Stan didn't like sitting still, but he didn't dare to move. He just watched as Dipper frantically looked around for something. Stan frowned when Dipper finally found what he was looking for...a flashlight. Dipper knelt in front of Stan again and shined the flashlight into his eye.

"Ow!" Stan tried to pull back, but Dipper put a hand on his shoulder and held him in place.

"Just hold on," Dipper said. He shined the light into the other eye and immediately relaxed. Dipper sighed in relief and wrapped his arms around Stan's shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. "You're okay. You're not...wait," Dipper pulled back and looked at him frantically. "You said something about Ford and Fiddleford. Where are they?"

"Asleep, I think," Stan said. "I think they're having nightmares."

Dipper took a deep breath. "Okay, okay," He brushed some hair out of Stan's face. "I have to go check up on your brother. _Stay here_." Dipper grabbed a blaster, a magnet gun, a grappling hook that Stan had thought belonged to Mabel, and a few other random things. "You'll be safe as long as you stay in this room. Just in case, try not to fall asleep, okay? If you do sleep and you see a triangle named Bill Cipher, whatever you do, don't make a deal with him. Don't listen to a single word he has to say, and don't shake his hand."

"Grunkle Dipper, what's going on?" Stan asked. He drew his legs close to his chest. This was almost worse than how he'd felt while up in the attic.

"It's complicated." Dipper said. "I promise, I'll explain it all later, but there's no time right now." Dipper stepped out the door. "Mabel should be down in a few minutes, and I'll be back as soon as I can with Ford and Fiddleford. Just wait here for us, okay?"

"...Okay." Stan said. Dipper gave him a reassuring grin before closing and locking the door and heading upstairs. Stan was left on his own.

* * *

Dipper ran up the stairs two at a time. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't supposed to be happening at all. He should have listened to Mabel and used the unicorn hair more sparingly, he'd just panicked. Dipper knew that unicorn hair could be used to protect against Bill, but he hadn't known just how much he needed. To surround the entire house, the trailer of hair would have had to be just a single hair thin, and there was no guarantee that would be enough. Just in case, Dipper had used the hair bundles to surround his main working room in the basement. He knew for a fact that Bill couldn't get into this room, but that left the rest of the house vulnerable.

Dipper now realized that he should have talked to Stan and Ford about Bill. It was difficult for him to talk about, and he didn't like to admit the mistakes he made. He'd been hoping to keep the kids in the dark, but that had been a mistake. Stan and Ford were curious kids. If they wanted to learn about Bill, they'd be able to find the information for themselves the same way that Dipper had, and without the proper warnings and preparation, they could have easily made the same mistakes too.

Dipper's own shame and paranoia had left the boys vulnerable and ignorant. He had to fix things. He had to make sure the kids were okay.

When Dipper got upstairs, he immediately headed for Mabel's room. He wanted to go straight to the attic, but he needed his sister's help and support with this, and she needed to know what was going on. Dipper didn't even bother knocking on the door, he just threw it open.

"Mabel, wake up," Dipper said urgently. Mabel groaned and rolled over. "Come on, we've got a code yellow here." That woke her up immediately. Mabel sat up, her eyes wide and aware.

"Bill?" Mabel frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Not positive," Dipper admitted. "But it's definitely something." He turned on the bedroom lights and took a close look at Mabel's eyes. They were normal. Good. "Stan's in the basement, in the unicorn room. I need you to keep an eye on him." Dipper handed his sister her grappling hook. He'd borrowed it for his latest hunt, but he wasn't about to just leave her unprotected. "I also need you to call Jimmy." Dipper may not like the younger man, but there was no denying that Jimmy Snakes knew a thing or two about Bill.

"What are you doing?" Mabel asked as she threw on a sweater. She had stopped wearing sweaters as often as she got older, but at times when she needed just a little extra comfort she didn't hesitate to put one on.

"I'm going to check on Ford and Fiddleford." Dipper said. Mabel gave him a really quick hug.

"Be careful, Dipper," Mabel whispered.

"I will be," Dipper said. He patted her back and pulled away from her. Time was of the essence here. "Go downstairs, I'll be there with the boys as soon as I can." Mabel took a deep breath and nodded, a look of fierce determination in her eyes. Dipper knew that she would give her life to protect Stan. She would keep him safe.

Dipper left the bedroom and made his way up to the attic. When he entered the attic, the very first thing he noticed was the Bill-esque light shining through the window. Dipper scowled. He'd completely forgotten that he'd put the image of Bill in the attic window. He should have helped Mabel to set up the attic before Stan and Ford came to stay with them. It might have spared them some stress.

Bill could show up in the dreams of anybody he pleased, but he had easier access to those who were exposed to Bill memorabilia. All the triangle statues, the carpet, the window, and anything else that Dipper had forgotten about, they served as bridges and invitations to Bill.

Dipper aimed his lazer blaster at the window and didn't hesitate for a moment before shooting the window, shattering the glass. Fiddleford sat up with a gasp, breathing so rapidly that he sounded like he was hyperventilating. Dipper lowered his blaster and turned on the light. Fiddleford's pupils were so dilated that his pupils almost completely covered the color of his eyes. Dipper approached the boy and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, hey, Fiddleford, it's okay, you're okay." Dipper said. Fiddleford was looking towards him, but there was no recognition in his eyes. Dipper didn't think he processed just what he was seeing. "Come on, come back," He gently tapped on Fiddleford's cheeks. Slowly but surely, Fiddleford began to calm down. His breathing evened out, and his pupils very slowly shrank. Dipper smiled in relief. "That's it."

"M-M-Mr. Pines?" Fiddleford blinked rapidly. "What are you doing here? Why…" Fiddleford frowned and looked at the window. "Why did you break the window?"

"I'll explain later." Dipper looked around and quickly found Fiddleford's shoes on the floor at the foot of his bed. He handed them to the boy. "Put these on and watch your feet." Dipper gave Fiddleford one last concerned look before going to the other side of the room to get Ford. The boy wasn't sleeping very soundly, but when Dipper tried to shake him awake, there was no change. Stan was right, Ford was in a really deep sleep.

Dipper furrowed his brow and lifted one of Ford's eyelids to get a good look at his eyes. He relaxed ever so slightly when he saw how normal it looked. Ford wasn't possessed. However, he might have Bill in his dreams, and that was a problem as well. Dipper spent another minute trying to wake up Ford, but when nothing he tried seemed to work he decided to just go with plan B.

Dipper picked up Ford and held him close to his chest. He looked at Fiddleford, who still looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack. "Come on, it's not safe up here." Dipper waited for Fiddleford to make his move towards the door. The boy flinched as he stepped across the broken glass. He'd done as Dipper said and put on his shoes, so at least he wasn't hurting his feet, but every sound of shattering glass set the boy on edge.

Once Fiddleford was away from the glass, he scurried out of the room. Dipper followed close behind, pausing just long enough to close and lock the door behind him. He didn't know if Bill's presence in the attic had just been because of the window, but he wasn't going to be taking any chances. Nobody was going into this attic, not without protection.

Dipper stepped just behind Fiddleford and put a hand on his shoulder to lead him. They went down to the basement, and Dipper put in the appropriate code to get into the safe room. The moment the door was opened, Dipper was greeted with a grappling hook aimed at his chest. Fiddleford yelped and ducked behind Dipper, who didn't flinch. It was a relief that his sister was being diligent and cautious, just like he'd told her to be.

"Let me see your eyes," Mabel said, her voice wavering ever so slightly. Dipper kept his eyes wide to prove that they were normal.

"I'm clean," Dipper said. One look at Mabel and Stan confirmed that they weren't possessed either. "Ford and Fiddleford are good too." Mabel lowered her weapon and threw her arms around Dipper's shoulder.

"Thank goodness," Mabel sighed in relief. She drew back and pulled them into the room, closing the door behind them. Mabel took Ford from Dipper and held the boy close. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's just asleep." Dipper said. He was worried too, but at times like this it was his job to stay strong for his family's sake. If he freaked out, Mabel wouldn't be able to calm down. "Give me a second," Dipper grabbed one of his journals from his desk. There was all sorts of information about Bill in here, such as his history, theories about how to stop or even kill him, and spells that were said to fight off nightmares. That was what Dipper was focused on.

Dipper put a hand on Ford's head and started to read from his journal. It had taken him a long time to learn how to pronounce the gibberish, but he was glad for all the hours he'd dedicated to learning it. As soon as Dipper finished the spell Ford moaned and his eyes fluttered. He drowsily opened his eyes, and both Dipper and Mabel sighed in relief.

"Sixer!" Stan jumped at his brother, punching Ford's arm as soon as Mabel had set him down, and immediately after embracing him. "You're awake."

"Stan, what are you doing?" Ford frowned at his brother. He looked around in confusion before his eyes widened in slight panic. "Why are we in the basement? You know you're not supposed to be down here."

"It's okay," Dipper assured him. "Tonight's kind of a special case." Dipper knelt down to put himself at the boys' level. He checked Ford's eyes again, just in case. "You were sleeping pretty soundly. Did you have any dreams? Do you remember any of it?"

"Not-not really." Ford looked thoughtful. "It started back at New Jersey, but then it ended here in Gravity Falls. I...I think there were memories." Dipper wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. Bill was especially fond of taking people's memories and turning them against them. Dipper would have to speak with the boy later about what exactly those memories were. He needed to know exactly what they were dealing with.

"This might sound weird, but was there a yellow triangle named Bill Cipher in your dream?" Dipper asked. Fiddleford flinched and drew his arms close around him. Ford narrowed his eyes.

"...Maybe." Ford looked frustrated to not know for sure.

"Just who is that guy anyways?" Stan crossed his arms and glared at Dipper. "What's the big deal?"

Dipper and Mabel exchanged glances. They had agreed to not tell the boys about Bill Cipher, but if the demon was messing around with them anyways it just wasn't practical to keep the boys in the dark. Dipper sighed and pulled up a chair. He sat down on it and rested his elbows on his knees. He leaned towards the boys.

"I think it's time I tell you boys about Bill Cipher." Dipper said. "It all started when I first came to Gravity Falls..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I'm going to go into just what Bill had done with Dipper in this universe. I don't completely understand why, but I like keeping it fairly vague for the readers. Maybe if I was planning on bringing Bill into a future story I would take more about it, but I don't think he's going to play that large a roll in any of these stories. They'll be dealing with other issues.


	3. Chapter 3

Jimmy Snakes stretched and rubbed his eyes to try to wake himself up. This was far from his first sleepless night, and he could usually handle it pretty well, but he'd already been running on little sleep when he'd gotten a late night call from Mabel Pines. He'd just finished with some other work, and he was supposed to be resting so he'd be at full capacity for another hunt tomorrow morning, but he forgot about all of that. The hunt would have to be put off for another time. Jimmy had been given his priorities, and keeping an eye on the Pines family was really close to the top right now.

The whole reason his boss had sent him to Gravity Falls in the first place was because of Bill Cipher. The dream demon had caused some issues years ago, with the help of an oblivious and ambitious Dipper Pines. Things had died down since then, but Jimmy's boss wasn't confident that it would stay that way, so he'd sent him to keep an eye on the situation. For now, that was his priority. Any other work he did was just to keep himself busy and his boss happy.

As soon as Jimmy had gotten the call, he'd raced his motorcycle to the Mystery Shack. As soon as he'd stepped onto the property he could feel the influence of a demon. It wasn't strong, but it was unmistakable. The first thing that he noticed as he approached the shack was the shattered glass on the lawn and the broken attic window.

Well, that was one way to discourage Cipher's influence.

Jimmy made his way to the front door, which immediately swung open by one Dipper Pines. The man looked like a mess, even more exhausted and paranoid than Jimmy felt. He was holding a blaster in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Jimmy knew right away what Dipper would ask of him, so he slipped his sunglasses off.

"Don't move," Dipper said coldly. He shined the flashlight in Jimmy's eyes, lingering more than was probably necessary, but Jimmy didn't complain. He was here for work, and if that involved allowing Dipper to be completely sure that he wasn't possessed, so be it. Jimmy knew that his eyes didn't look normal, his pupils were ever so slightly slitted, but in a different way than Cipher's. After a long moment, Dipper lowered his flashlight and weapon.

"You're clean," Dipper stepped back. "Let's get to work."

"What happened?" Jimmy asked. "Kitten doing okay?"

"Stan's fine," Dipper scowled, like he often did when Jimmy mentioned Stan and called him by the nickname. "That tattoo of his protected him from the nightmares that Ford and Fiddleford had." Nightmares. That wasn't a good sign. "The boys are all okay now, no permanent damage or possession, and hopefully only minimum trauma."

"You're lucky, Pines," Jimmy said. When people messed around with demons, there were far more consequences than they could ever be prepared for. Demons like Cipher, especially, didn't let go of their victims easily. It was why Jimmy had put the sigil on Stan's back, to provide him with at least a little protection.

"Yeah, I know," Dipper said. He clearly wasn't in the mood for a lecture, so Jimmy reluctantly let it drop. At least Pines was trying to fix his mistakes, and he seemed to know what he was doing. Besides, Jimmy was the last person who could scold someone for being careless around demons.

"We need to demon proof the attic," Dipper said. "The boys are sleeping in the basement right now, but that can't be a long term solution." Dipper led the way upstairs. "We also need to go through the entire shack and get rid of anything that even remotely resembles Bill." Destruction of demonic materials was something that Jimmy was really good at, and it was something that he enjoyed. It was fun to stick it to beings that thought they were all-powerful.

"We should have done all of this earlier," Dipper said as he climbed up the stairs, the frustration he was feeling was clear. "Mabel said that some of the spells I've found were a little excessive, but maybe I should try them out anyways. You can never be too careful, right?"

Jimmy didn't quite agree. In his experience, the people who got into the most trouble with demons and magic were those who were desperate enough to try magic that would otherwise be considered too dangerous. The road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but it was walked by the desperate souls who didn't know where else to go.

That was why he was here though, to make sure that Dipper didn't take things too far, or at the very least to stop him from dragging anybody else down with him.

Jimmy spent the next several hours helping Dipper go through his books. Whenever the man suggested something that was more likely to backfire than properly protect, Jimmy would be quick to point out what could go wrong. Fortunately, he was able to convince Dipper to take things safe. Cipher wasn't to be taken lightly, but they weren't quite desperate enough to have to resort to summoning an undead army to patrol the perimeter of the house. Dream demons may avoid the undead, specifically because they don't dream, but zombies and ghosts were far too dangerous to mess with, even if they did keep Cipher away.

By the time the sun was beginning to rise, they had about a dozen spells they could try. None of them would be very effective on their own, but when put together they may be enough to at least keep the attic safe. Dipper had most of the ingredients and tools necessary, but there were just a couple of things that they still needed. Of course, Jimmy was tasked with finding these things.

Jimmy had no idea what it was about his aura or appearance, but he was always being given tasks suited for an errand boy. First his boss, and now Dipper. It was a little demeaning, but Jimmy had long since learned to not complain. He just looked at it as a sign that they trusted him with sensitive tools and information that others would quickly misuse.

Jimmy was about to leave for town when Stan came out of the basement yawning and looking like he hadn't gotten any sleep. The kid's eyes widened when he saw Jimmy there.

"What are you doing here?" Stan ran up to him.

"Your aunt called me last night. She said your uncle would need some help with some magic stuff." Jimmy said.

"You mean Bill?" Stan asked. Jimmy glared at Dipper, who sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I had to tell them something." Dipper said.

"You're telling them bedtimes about demons and wondering why they're having nightmares?" Whenever Jimmy thought that Dipper was a half decent man who at least had an idea of what he was doing, he would turn around and do something that would put someone else in danger.

"Look, Snakes, can you take Stan with you?" Dipper asked tiredly. "I don't want him to get bored around here, and Ford and Fiddleford had a long night, so we should let them rest."

Stan crossed his arms and pouted, though he probably thought that he looked pretty intimidating. "You just don't want me to be around your exhibits."

"You know me so well," Dipper chuckled and gave Stan a gentle shove towards Jimmy. "You'll have more fun out of the house anyways."

"Yeah, whatever," Stan muttered unhappily, but he followed Jimmy anyways.

"Cheer up, Kitten," Jimmy said as they went outside. He took his bike helmet and tossed it to Stan, who fumbled to catch it. "In your uncle's rush to get you out of the house, I think he forgot to think about just how I got here."

Stan brightened and happily put the helmet on. He loved riding on Jimmy's bike, but his uncle rarely ever allowed it. Dipper seemed to think that motorcycles were death machines, even though Jimmy had learned that Dipper had a close friend, one Wendy Corduroy, who had a custom made bike herself.

Jimmy wondered if Dipper's opinion would be different if he didn't know about the small biking accident that was Jimmy and Stan's first meeting.

Jimmy got on his bike, made sure that the kid was securely on and holding on tight, and revved up his bike. He started driving down the dirt paths, grinning to himself with every whoop and holler of joy and excitement that Stan gave. His kitten was definitely wide awake now.

Jimmy took the scenic route into town. This Cipher business may be urgent, but it was morning now. They had all day until the threat was back. Bill, as a dream demon, could only cause unexpected trouble if someone had made a deal with them or if they were asleep. Dipper may have made a deal with Cipher, but Jimmy knew that the man had taken precautions to at least protect himself. The only thing they had to worry about was unexpected napping, and it was far too early in the morning for that.

While riding in the woods, away from other people, Jimmy took a few more risks than normal. He took sharp turns and dodged trees, missing by just a foot or so. He wasn't normally so reckless, but he wanted to give Stan a good time, get the kid's mind off of his stressful night and his frustration with his uncle.

After riding around aimlessly for nearly half an hour, Jimmy finally brought them into town. His first destination was the biking bar. He knew that Pines wouldn't like this, but the man didn't need to know Jimmy's methods. His suppliers and informants who frequented this bar would either be able to give him exactly what he was looking for right away, or they'd be able to tell him where to find what he needed.

Jimmy wondered how Dipper Pines would react if he knew just how knowledgeable about the mysteries of Gravity Falls the local biker gangs were.

"Okay, kid, stay out here." Jimmy said. He was all for encouraging Stan's rebellious nature, but he wasn't about to drag the kid into a bar with him. He may not be the most responsible of adults, but even he had his standards.

"What? Come on!" Stan glared at him. "You're no fun."

"Taking you for a joy ride on my bike is no fun?" Jimmy raised an eyebrow at Stan. The kid crossed his arms, but didn't say anything else, because he knew that he was right. Jimmy chuckled and ruffled Stan's hair. "I won't be too long. Why don't you go check out that petting zoo we passed on the way here?"

"A petting zoo? Are you kidding me?" Stan rolled his eyes. "I'm not five."

"You're telling me you're not interested in setting the animals loose and seeing just how tame they are when not trapped behind a fence?" Jimmy smirked.

Stan considered his words for a moment before he hopped off the bike. "Actually, that sounds kinda awesome." Stan ran down the street. "I'll see you later."

"Try not to kill anybody in your animal revolution." Jimmy said as he went into the bar. He probably shouldn't have put the idea into Stan's head, but if he knew Kitten, the kid was going to find himself in trouble anyways. At least this way he would know exactly where the kid was instead of having to chase him around town.

Besides, if Stan was going to be getting in trouble, it might as well be trouble that his aunt might actually encourage.

Because it was so early in the morning, there weren't very many people there. Most of the patrons there were just sleeping at the bar or nursing a cup of water to get rid of a lingering hangover. Jimmy sat down next to the woman that he recognized as one of his more trusted suppliers here. She was far from a good person, but she knew who he was and who he worked for, and she knew better than to disappoint him.

"Snakes, it's been awhile since I've seen you here," She passed her drink to Jimmy, who took just a small drink. He'd had a stressful night, he deserved just a little sip. He couldn't get drunk though, or even buzzed. He still had to ride his motorcycle back to the Mystery Shack, and with a kid behind him too. Now wasn't the right time to drink.

"I've had work," Jimmy leaned close to her. "I'm actually on the clock now. You wouldn't happen to have any moonstones, cornicellos or hamsa around, would you?"

She leaned against the bar counter. "You don't normally use protective charms."

"I don't normally mess around with the evil eye." Jimmy said. Bill Cipher was far from the only being or force that could be called the evil eye, as the term was more the concept of danger and evil than anything, but it was a term that worked when he couldn't tell people the specifics of what he was dealing with. The concept of the evil eye was known all around the world.

"Moonstones are easy," She said. My grandmother probably has some hidden away in her attic. I don't know about any proper cornicellos, but I know a couple of Jews in town. They might have some hamsas to spare.

"Jews," Jimmy considered that. Stan had mentioned once in passing that he and his brother would be having their bar mitzvah next year, which meant that they, at least, were Jewish. He didn't know if their aunt and uncle were as well, but considering how superstitious Dipper was, and how creative and artistic Mabel was, if they didn't have any hamsas lying around, they might at least know how to make them.

"Anything you can find will help," Jimmy said. "I'll take whatever you can find to protect from dreams or the evil eye."

"I'll see what I can do," She said. She was extremely resourceful, and since Jimmy had gotten her out of some trouble a few years ago, she'd been doing anything she could to repay him. She always seemed to be around when Jimmy needed something from her, to the point that he couldn't decide whether she had powers or was following him around, but he didn't question it. He wasn't about to look a gift informant in the mouth.

"You know where to find me." Jimmy took another drink and stood up. "See what you can get me by the end of the day." He should probably find Stan, just to make sure he didn't get himself hurt. There may be more things that Dipper had sent him to get, but he wasn't about to bring the man some goblin liver He could manage without it. Just to appease Dipper, he'd look for some stray strands of unicorn hair in the woods on their way back. They probably wouldn't find any without going to the grove, but at least he could say that he tried.

Jimmy went outside and made his way to the petting zoo. He was almost surprised, and just a little bit concerned, when he didn't see people screaming, or at least gossiping. It seemed that Stan had refrained himself at least a little bit. Jimmy moved past the crowds of really small children and bored parents and soon found the kid he was looking for in the goat pen.

"You've found a kid, Kitten," Jimmy leaned against the fence. Stan grinned broadly up at him.

"Jimmy, check out Gompers." Stan stood up, picking up the now squirming young goat to show to Jimmy.

"Yeah, it's a goat alright," Jimmy reached out to pet the goat, but it bleated in protest and squirmed almost violently away from him. Stan frowned and pulled Gompers closer, but when it was in arms reach of Jimmy it growled and bit his hand.

"Gompers, no!" Stan pulled the goat back. "Man, maybe the owners were right about you."

"Why do they have a goat that bites in a petting zoo?" Jimmy shook his hand out. The bite had been really harsh.

"I don't know," Stan said. "They said nobody ever visits Gompers. They call him a demon goat."

"Demon, huh?" Jimmy knelt on the ground to put himself closer to the goat's level. The animal bleated at him in warning and snuggled closer to Stan. Jimmy looked at Gomper's eyes, and they looked eerily similar to the eyes of a certain dream demon, but they were still distinctly different. The pupils were horizontal instead of vertical, for one thing, but they also felt different.

Jimmy stared at Gompers for a long moment, and the goat stared back at him in something like defiance. It seemed to be looking for something in Jimmy, like he was looking for something in it. This wasn't just some mindless animal.

Jimmy held his hand up towards Gompers, but far enough away that he wasn't in danger of being bitten. He just showed off the inverted pentagram brand on his palm. Gompers eyed the brand uneasily and lowered its head in warning, like it was tempted to headbutt it. Gompers saw this symbol, and Jimmy, as a threat.

Jimmy lowered his hand and grinned. Sometimes animals could be very sensitive to the supernatural. Some of them were drawn to it, and others could sense it. Gompers seemed to be one of those. Most animals who could sense supernatural presences got skittish and ran off, but not Gompers. This really young goat was a fighter, and that may come in handy.

"You think we can convince your uncle to allow you to have a pet?" Jimmy asked. Stan frowned slightly in confusion and looked at Gompers thoughtfully.

"I don't think the petting zoo guy will just let me take him." Stan said.

"Let me deal with that." Jimmy said. He ruffled Stan's hair, chuckling when Gompers bleated angrily and tried to reach up to bite him again. Oh, yes, Gompers was definitely a fighter. Jimmy walked away from the pen, his eyes glowing under his sunglasses as he tapped into his powers. His boss hadn't given him a lot of magic of his own, but one thing that Jimmy could do was single out an individual and influence them to wander to somewhere more private. It was a lot easier to confront someone if there wasn't a crowd around.

Jimmy let himself into the small office where he saw the man who must own this small place already waiting for him, looking confused as to what he was doing in his office himself. Jimmy closed and locked the door behind him, to ensure privacy.

"Who are you?" The man asked, the anger in his tone not quite masking how nervous he was. "Get out!"

"We have some business to attend to." Jimmy said. He slipped his glasses off, letting the unnatural glow come through. "A kitten tells me you've got a demon goat here."

"Gompers? He's harmless." The man said.

"We both know that's not true." Jimmy said, manipulating the truth a little bit. He knew that the young goat wasn't evil, let alone a demon, but he could sense that the owner wasn't quite so sure himself. "It can be dangerous to have a creature like this. It _will_ bring trouble." If the man didn't give up the goat willingly, Jimmy would cause that trouble himself, because they needed this little goat more than this petting zoo did.

"I'll tell you what, I'll take this guy off your hands, and you won't have to even think about him again." Jimmy said. He let his demon enforcer voice slip through. It usually worked to threaten people and discourage trouble, but apparently the petting zoo owner wasn't as spineless as he seemed. The man was shaking, but he stood up as straight as he could.

"What do I get from this?" The man asked.

Jimmy growled and leaned towards him. The lights in the small office flickered, making the glowing of Jimmy's eyes stand out even more. "You get to stay on my good side, and in this town, that's worth a lot."

Just a minute later Jimmy was rejoining Stan. "Guess what, kids? The owner of this fine establishment has agreed to let Gompers here come with us."

"For keeping?" Stan clutched Gompers tightly.

"Yeah, for keeping." Jimmy had no idea why Stan was so drawn to this goat, but it could make the coming nights much easier for all of them, and without having to resort to magical means. Magic may make things easier, but it was also extremely complicated and didn't guarantee safety. "Come on, why don't we go see if your brother's awake yet?" They'd only been gone for about an hour, but Jimmy was content with what they'd accomplished.

Besides, if the Pines were going to be making hamsas, they may need plenty of time to do so.

As they made their way back to the motorcycle, Stan took his helmet and forced it on Gompers' head. Jimmy tried to convince him to wear the helmet himself, but the boy wouldn't hear a word of it. Stan was prioritizing Gompers' safety above his own, just like Jimmy prioritized Stan's safety.

Jimmy had been thinking of getting himself another riding helmet, but he just hadn't gotten around to it. This moment really clenched it for him that he needed another helmet, so that if Stan wanted to take his goat for another ride on the bike, both the kids would be safe. Besides, it would probably be best for Stan to have a helmet that actually fit him properly.

Jimmy rode as slowly and safely as he could back to the shack. He didn't want to hit a bump and send Stan flying. Crashing was never a good thing, but crashing when there was a much higher possibility of someone cracking their head open on a rock was definitely not something Jimmy ever wanted to do.

Eventually they pulled up to the Mystery Shack. Stan quickly jumped off the bike, holding Gompers close to his chest. The boy finally set the goat down. It glared at Jimmy, as much as a goat could glare, and bleated at him one more time before it walked behind Stan as the boy went inside. Jimmy followed close behind them.

"Grunkle Dipper!" Stan called out loudly. "Come see what we've got."

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Dipper said from the kitchen. Mabel came out of the hallway just behind him. She must have been trying to force Dipper to eat some breakfast, like she did nearly every morning. Dipper froze in his tracks when he saw Gompers. "You've been followed."

"We got him from the petting zoo." Stan said cheerfully. "Jimmy said I can keep him."

"Aw, it's a baby goat." Mabel bent down and picked up Gompers. She cuddled it, grinning when it began to nibble on her shirt. "It's so cute."

Dipper brought a hand to his head and sighed. He looked far too exhausted for so early in the day. "You can't just steal a goat."

"We didn't." Jimmy assured him. "The owner was more than happy to hand this little beast over."

Dipper crossed his arms. "With minimal persuasion, right?" Jimmy smirked. Pines thought that he had him pegged, but there was a lot he didn't know. Dipper shook his head and knelt down to put himself at Stan's level. "We can't just keep a goat. One wild animal is more than enough."

"Don't call Waddles a wild animal." Mabel frowned at her brother. He turned to look up at her.

"I was talking about you." Dipper said with a straight face. Stan snorted and Mabel gave both of them a shove.

"I think you'll want this wild animal." Jimmy said. "This little guy can sense evil, and it won't hesitate to try to chase it off."

Stan gave Jimmy a curious look, obviously remembering how much Gompers didn't like him. He didn't say anything though, which Jimmy appreciated. Dipper was only just convinced that Jimmy wasn't evil, and he didn't want to give him reason to be suspicious of him all over again.

Dipper eyed Gompers carefully. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." Jimmy said. "I'm sure you have some dark magic lying around, why don't you bring this guy close to it and try it out?"

Dipper squared his shoulders, determination and caution in his eyes. "Fine." He stood up and took Gompers from Mabel. Dipper made his way towards the basement, with Stan right at his heels. Jimmy and Mabel exchanged glances before joining them. Jimmy had seen the basement before, but not the room that Dipper led them into.

As they entered the room Dipper put a firm hand on Stan's shoulder and held him back. "Please, don't touch anything, and I mean it this time. This stuff is dangerous." Jimmy was sure that Dipper said this kind of thing all the time, but for once Jimmy thought he agreed with him. For a man who was so defiant against Bill, Dipper certainly had a lot of golden triangle memorabilia lying around locked up in this room. Jimmy was alarmed to see a summoning circle on the ground. Dipper pointedly ignored looking at it and pulled Stan away from it.

"This is everything of Bill's that I've tried, and failed, to destroy." Dipper said. "I would love to just throw it away, but I can't risk anybody else getting their hands on it." Jimmy felt some of his anger at Dipper disappear. The man was a fool, but he was one of the smartest fools that Jimmy had ever met. At least he was trying to be careful.

Gompers had started to squirm the moment they entered the room. When the goat was brought close to one of the larger golden statues it bleated angrily and leaned forward just enough to bite it. Jimmy smirked in satisfaction. His assumption had been right. Gompers could sense evil, and its first instinct was to attack it.

Dipper laughed triumphantly and gave Gompers a fond pet. "Smart goat." Dipper looked at Jimmy. "You think it'll be able to keep the boys safe?"

"I have no doubt that Gompers will be able to sense if Bill starts bugging them." Jimmy said. Stan reached up for Gompers and took him from Dipper. "If one of them starts having a nightmare and Gompers bites them, trying to get rid of Bill, it will wake them up."

"But I tried to wake Ford up last night, and it wouldn't work." Stan said.

"Well then, Gompers will wake you up, and you can come get me, like you did last night." Dipper said.

"What if I'm fast asleep the way that Ford was?" Stan asked. Jimmy shook his head.

"That won't happen." He patted Stan's shoulder, where he had put the sigil. "You remember your cool tattoo? That should keep Bill away from your dreams."

Stan's eyes widened. "Is that why my shoulder started burning last night? That hurt!"

"It's better than being haunted by Bill." Dipper said. "Okay, you can keep the goat."

"Yes!" Stan hugged Gompers close to his chest. "Wait till I show Ford."

"Your brother's still sleeping, and I want him to stay that way." Mabel said. "Why don't we introduce Gompers to Waddles? I'm sure they'll love each other."

"That sounds like a great idea," Dipper smirked at his sister. "We can finally prove what I've believed for years now, that Waddles is a demon."

"Oh, you love him, don't deny it." Mabel said. She led the way out of the room. Dipper waited for Stan and Jimmy to follow her before he brought up the rear, locking and carefully securing the room before following them upstairs.

"So, Snakes, did you get any moonstones or unicorn hair?" Dipper asked.

"No unicorn hair, but I have someone who's going to bring me the moonstones." Jimmy said. "I thought we could make our own hamsas to protect against the evil eye."

"Hamsas?" Stan perked up. "I know how to make those. My mom used to sell them all the time."

"Oh, I remember those things." Mabel said. "She showed me how to make them when we visited for Hanukkah a few years ago."

"You're not talking about those creepy hand things, are you?" Dipper frowned. "You know I don't like them."

"You just don't like the eye in the palm." Mabel said.

"I just don't understand how something that has a creepy eye on it can be used to ward off the evil eye." Dipper crossed his arms.

"Lots of people use hamsa and Nazar to protect from the evil eye." Jimmy said. "Some say that to protect from an eye, you need to use an eye."

"It can't hurt to just give it a try." Mabel said gently. Dipper sighed.

"Yeah, fine, we'll try a hamsa or two." Dipper said.

"Do you know what this means?" Mabel asked, looking far too excited. She didn't give any of them time to answer before she finished her thought. "Arts and crafts time!" She hooked one arm around Dipper's arm, and the other around Stan's shoulder. She pulled them off into the living room. Jimmy grinned and followed them. This whole family was reckless and attracted trouble, but they were infectious. Jimmy couldn't get enough of them. They were definitely worth the trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was quite excited when I learned about hamsas (at least, I think that's the plural for hamsa, though it may be hamsot or something else entirely). Not only is it a protection from the evil eye, but it's one that the Jews use, which means that the Pines family, who are Jewish themselves (at least, Stan and Ford are), would be more likely to use them.
> 
> That's it for this particular story. I may write another one next month for Halloween, we shall see.


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